Return to Glory
by Dr. Mason
Summary: Shortly after graduation, the Azu Dai girls are pursued by a shadow organization determined to keep them quiet. Who's heading the organization, what do the girls know, and what does it have to do with Chiyo's past? M for violence, language and OC death.
1. Prologue

_Foreward: I do not own Azumanga Daioh; Copyright Kiyohiko Azuma, ADV Films. This work is protected under Parody and other Provisions under Fair Use._

**Return to Glory**

_Prologue_

Takeo's eyes slowly drifted open, the light piercing the dark void of his restless dreams. It seems he had fallen into a routine as of late – a routine which invariably led him to rise early, work far too long, and retire entirely too late in the evening. He knew it wasn't sustainable - but it wasn't as if he had a choice. The country was depending on him; _she_ was depending on him. He tried to act like his work didn't affect him, but here he was in bed, still in his lab coat, asleep with the lights on. Groaning, he turned over, his hand shading his eyes. "Suzu? Won't you turn off that light?" To his chagrin, the room remained lit. "That's odd," he thought. He opened his eyes only to find an empty bed.

He called to the darkened hallway. "Suzu? Are you coming to bed?" Takeo lifted up his head off his Belgian-Soff pillow and looked at the bedspread that covered his body. Then, he hopefully gazed at the door. No response. He rolled his bloodshot eyes at the silence, thinking that it had somehow been a louder answer than if she had actually responded. "She must still be in the lab," he muttered to himself. He grudgingly lifted himself from the bed, grimacing as his bare feet touched the cold floor. He slowly stood up and looked down longingly at the covers. "Please still be warm when I get back" he implored as he turned to walk down the hallway.

As he reached the grand lobby of their mansion, he took note of the darkened lab to his left. "Well, of course she wouldn't be using _my _lab. That would be entirely too close to the bedroom. No, she has to use the lab on the _far_ side of the house." Tomorrow…er… today was going to be another long day. He could tell already.

Trudging further into the heart of Suzu's domain, he finally approached the door. He saw the white line at the base of the door and nodded to himself. He heard the familiar _thump thump_ of her favorite J-Pop band on the other side of the door. "This isn't going to be pleasant." He braced himself and opened the door, wincing as the sound washed over him all at once. He heard a slightly off-key voice wailing,

"_meguri atta toki no _

_you ni itsu made mo kawarazu _

_iraretara wow woooooooooooooow _

_Truuuuuuuuuuue HEARRRRRRRRRRRT!"_

Despite the pain in his throbbing ears, Takeo couldn't help but chuckle. He loved spying on her when she was singing to her favorite song, or at least her favorite song of the day. The way that she bobbed her head, the way that her long red hair swayed to the music, the way she held the pendant on her necklace to her mouth like a microphone… it was one of the few things that could still lift his spirits these days. More and more, little moments like this were the only thing that gave him the energy to push forth and salvage what fraction of the world was still recognizable to him. "Maybe it was worth getting out of bed after all," he thought.

Takeo couldn't help himself; he carefully tiptoed into the lab until he was right behind her. Then, when the time was right, as loud as he could manage, he joined in.

"_Uragiri no kagami ni_

_utsushidasareta _

_egao ni tsurarete _

_nagasareta HIIIIIIIIBIIIIIIIII!"_

"WAAHHHH!" Suzu shrieked as she rocketed upwards. Takeo couldn't be more pleased with himself – Suzu had never jumped higher at one of his pranks. She quickly turned around, her eyes quivering white saucers as wide as the moon. "You scared me! Don't do that to me!" Takeo couldn't help but laugh as he brushed away the small tear drops forming at the corners of Suzu's eyes. He took her into his arms.

"Sorry, sweetie, but you were just having so much fun, I had to join in."

"Awful kind way to go about it," she muttered into his chest. She looked at her hands, and read the single word inscribed into the pendant. "Forever." She smiled as she remembered when Takeo gave it to her for their first anniversary many years ago. She blushed as she remembered the scene. He sat next to her, caressing her hair, and explained it stood for how long his love for her would last. "A thousand generations, and then for eternity," he had proclaimed. Yes, Takeo liked to prank her every so often, but she knew it was just one way he showed his affection.

Suzu's resilience kicked in and she regained her abnormally positive and energetic composure. "One of these days, you're going to pay for that! You'll be working or sleeping, and that's when I'll pounce!"

"Well," he looked at her with mock scorn, "to do that, you'll have to be in the same room with me. Why aren't you in bed yet?"

Suzu looked puzzled. "Why? Is it late?" She glanced at the digital clock on the wall. It shone 3:27 AM accusingly back at her. She just smiled, tilting her head to adjust her hair. "Oh my! I'm sorry. I just got so caught up in my work…"

"Well, any progress?"

"Yes, in fact!" She quickly turned around and hit a few keys. A series of tangled protein strains rotated lazily on the screen. "I've finally managed to isolate the reproductive strands of the virus. I'm running the regular chemical reagents through analysis to see if any of them can properly bond to it now."

Takeo hunched over the monitor as he looked at the multicolored squiggles in front of him. Slowly, his brow furrowed.

"These don't look like anything I've ever seen before… these structures look more like those of prions than viruses."

"I know. That's puzzled me too. Though this could explain why it's spread so fast here."

Takeo shuddered unconsciously. He didn't like to think about what had started just weeks ago happening to Japan and its sick populace. "The body wouldn't really have a defense against a strand like that. It would just replicate and replicate…"

"Well, that's why I'm on the case," Suzu interrupted. She looked lovingly at her overly serious husband and tenderly tapped the tip of his nose. "Don't you worry about a thing. I have a feeling that with a bit more work, I'll have this horrible thing running for cover! It was only a matter of time."

"But regardless, you need your sleep, Suzu. Let the computers crunch the numbers overnight; you can look at it in the morning." Patting her shoulder, he smiled, "Even geniuses need their sleep after all."

"Maybe so, but I can't help it. I try to sleep, and then I get to thinking." Suzu turned to the protein graphics again, her eyes turning serious. "Japan already had it rough before this hit. With the recession, and the crime…. And since this…" She paused. "Things have only gotten worse.

"And I just can't help but think – what kind of world would this be for a child to grow up in?" Suzu unconsciously caressed her swollen stomach. For the first time, Takeo noticed the bags under her eyes, and the slight frizz around the edges of her hair. The horrifying conditions outside were taking their toll on her as well. She just hid it better than he.

Takeo gently placed his hand on her belly, feeling a strong kick as he did so. He wasn't sure what to say; usually, he was the one worrying and she the one doing the consoling. In this situation, as in all situations where he was out of his league, he asked himself "What would Suzu do?" He thought for a beat, and then smiled.

"I know times are not… _ideal_, but we have to be strong for her. And that's why I'm working so hard at figuring out the cooling trend that's destroying the crops, and why you're working at fixing this virus, right? She won't have to deal with the hardships that we've had." He moved his hand up to Suzu's face and stroked the soft curve of her cheek. "But exhausting yourself isn't going to help us or the world out there. Let's get some sleep."

Suzu looked to the computer and sighed. With a couple of keystrokes, she saved her session to her flash drive. Carefully, she hooked the drive to her necklace, letting the small device fall between her breasts. "You're right, Mihama Takeo," she said. "What would I do without you?" She quickly stood on her tip toes and kissed him. "Let's get some rest. Maybe tomorrow, we'll figure this all out."

* * *

In the dark of the night, a grey-haired man attired in black calmly walked down the road. "Shit, it's cold out," he thought. He massaged his bandaged finger tips. "They have to know that it hurts when it's too cold out. Or too hot." He grimaced. "Or when the day of the week ends in 'day.' Goddamnit, Yuta!"

He stopped in the middle of the road, lashing out at the center line with his boots. Whenever he thought about it, he grew so frustrated. It was supposed to be a simple job: Yuta would handle cutting the lights, and he, the dirty work. But _no,_ Yuta got preoccupied, missed his timeframe, and the mark had gotten away. And of course _he, _being Yuta's senior in the organization, had been held responsible! One disciplinary procedure later, the duo was given a way to redeem themselves. The man appreciated the opportunity, but did it really have to be at night during the coldest winter of the past 50 years? God, he hated being at the mercy of others' whims! Well, he had decided, never again. After tonight, he would make sure that Yuta wouldn't cause any more problems for him or the organization. He would take control of his own destiny.

Regaining his composure, the grey-haired man carefully stepped off the side of the road and entered a dense patch of forest. Taking out his flashlight, he surveyed the contents of his duffel bag. Silently he took out various parts and began assembling them. Seemingly satisfied, he put everything back in the bag and headed through the forest towards his final destination.

Soon enough he came to a large brick wall. He jumped and pulled himself up over the edge of the fence. He dropped over the edge and hurried towards a hill overlooking the Mihama estate. There, he lay prone on the grass and took out a small set of night vision binoculars. He put his eye to the eyepiece and made sure he could see the mansion clearly. Looking through the eyepiece, he could see another figure slinking along the side of the mansion, the silhouette outlined by the light of the crescent moon. He heard a burst of static in his ear and then a low voice, "Gas mains ruptured, packages are in place and timed for ten minutes."

He raised his hand to his ear and pushed a small button on his headset. "Good. I'll watch from here, and we'll meet at the rendezvous point in two hours." He pushed the button again and the line went silent. Really, he couldn't contemplate this job going off without a hitch; it was too simple to screw up. Through his binoculars, he looked at the peaceful scene below and took a deep breath.

* * *

Takeo stirred from his sleep and turned over. He nestled back into a comfortable position and yawned. For a beat, all was still. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he quickly lifted himself into a sitting position. He took another deep breath to confirm his suspicion. He turned to Suzu and patted her arm.

"Suzu," he whispered. She waived him off, grunting in her sleep. Then more forcefully, "Suzu!" She groaned and rolled to face him.

"What is it? I thought we were supposed to get some sleep."

"Suzu, do you smell that?"

She was roused by Takeo's sudden seriousness. "What are you talking ab… is that gas?"

"We need to leave. It's not safe." Takeo stumbled through the dark room as he grabbed his wallet, his passport, his cell phone and quickly threw on some warm clothes. Suzu snapped to attention and began doing the same.

"Do you think the concentration is high enough to be dangerous?" she asked nervously.

"I don't know. But you probably shouldn't be breathing this. We need to get out of the house and…"

He cut himself short. In the silence, they heard a rumbling getting louder. Takeo's eyes grew wide. He yelled, "Suzu, out the window! Now!" As she walked around the bed, he picked up a sheet from the bed and rolled it around his arm. Turning his face away from the window, Takeo swung his arm as hard as he could. Suzu gave a small yelp as the window shattered. Takeo grabbed Suzu's arm and led her around the broken glass. Moving as quickly as she could manage, they moved away from the house. Behind them, the bedroom started to glow red, then yellow. They looked behind them as they ran, only to see…

_**WAHBOOM**_

_**

* * *

**_

The grey-haired man lifted up his eye from the binoculars to make sure they weren't playing tricks on him. Looking back through it, he saw two figures moving towards a cherry tree. He couldn't believe his eyes. Yuta had screwed him over again. Not only did the explosion trigger too late, but the marks were escaping!

"Damn you Yuta!" He scrambled to his bag and pulled the pre-assembled rifle out. Quickly, he went through the checklist. "Focusing… Calculating the drop" He aligned one of the targets in his crosshairs. "Time to finish that which you should have, Yuta." His scowl turned into a wide grin.

"And then I get to finish you!"

* * *

The bedroom where Takeo and Suzu had been moments before erupted in a fiery explosion. Takeo felt the shockwave push at his back, littering his pajama top with debris and broken glass. Suzu tripped, bringing Takeo down hard into a nearby cherry tree. He tried to bring his hand to his head, but was too late. The sound of his head hitting the tree produced a dull _THUNK_, but it was quickly swallowed up by the sound of another explosion behind him. He just lay there, stunned on the ground for a beat before he snapped to his senses. Suzu looked at him with concern, but he dismissed it.

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine." He rapped his head with his knuckles twice and reminded her, "Hard head." They looked back at the mansion, the fire slowly spreading towards the center of the house, and the… the labs! Holding their breath, they could do nothing but look on in horror as they watched their life's work burn to the ground. Suzu was the first to break the silence, her voice quiet and… and sorrowful. "Takeo, all of our research, our case studies, our files… it's all in there. We need to go back…" She freed herself from his grip and walked, determined, towards the inferno. Takeo shuffled to his feet and grabbed her arm.

Spinning her to face him, he exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly, "No, Suzu. Look at it!" He motioned with his other arms towards the house. "It's already gone. There's nothing we can do about that."

"But that research is the only hope Japan has left!"

"I don't care!"

Seeing the shocked look on her face, he realized he was yelling. His eyes trailed to the grounds and he retreated back a step. "Sorry, I just don't want to see you get…"

_THWAP THWAP THWAP_

As Takeo lifted his head, Suzu's torso jolted three times and arched forward. Three crimson ribbons erupted from Suzu's back as her eyes went wide and her mouth slack-jawed. She crumpled forward into Takeo's arms. Takeo didn't even think – his instincts took over immediately. His mind analyzed what he saw in a flash. The angle of the blood splatter, the way Suzu's body jerked forward - she had been sniped from the hill a couple hundred yards behind them. He quickly dragged Suzu's broken form behind the cover of the cherry tree.

He quickly looked around him. "Damn, no cover. How do we get out of here?" Tentatively, he peeked around the corner of the tree. _THWAP! _The tree splintered inches from where his face had been. He jerked it quickly back. He was pinned. He and Suzu were sitting ducks – all it would take is a simple flank and they were as good as dead. Left with no options, he did the only thing he could do. With one hand, he applied pressure to the wounds and called emergency services with the other. The police station and fire department weren't far away – maybe they'd heard the explosion and had someone on the way.

He hung up and looked at the devastation in his lap. He frantically looked at his burning estate, then back down at his wife. He was unable to move, unable to protect her – he was useless to help her. His emotions, having nowhere else to go, burst through his defenses.

"Oh gods, oh no. Suzu!" He caressed her face and kissed her brow. To his surprise, her pained eyes shot open and looked to him. "Just stay with me Suzu. The ambulance is on its way. You're going to be fine. Just…" He stopped; even to his own ears, he could tell that he was doing a horrible job at reassuring her. She opened her mouth, and tried to say something, but the words simply wouldn't come.

"It's okay, honey. Don't talk." His blood-stained hand lightly touched her lips. "Save your strength. Just breathe." He tenderly placed one hand on her stomach and ran the other along her spine, trying to determine where the bullets had hit. Through her stomach, his hand felt a violent kick. The blood drained from his face. He suddenly felt his strength leave him as he slumped over his wife. "Oh shit."

* * *

The grey-haired assassin pulled the trigger three more times. The bullets struck at the center of the cross-hairs, embedding themselves deep in the tree.

_CLICK._ He was out of rounds. "AAAARHGGG!"

Why couldn't he reach his goddamn marks? And where the hell did Yuta go off to? The assassin hoped Yuta was running for his life, because when he caught up and killed his worthless assistant, the payoff would be that much sweeter.

Hearing sirens in the distance, he knew had had to finish this, and quick. There was no way he would flee the scene and return to his bosses without having completed his objective. He packed the rifle back in the duffle, swung it over his shoulders and took out his pistol. He ran towards the cherry tree as fast as he could.

* * *

Takeo could do nothing but look at look at his wife's enlarged stomach and feel despair. Not only was he worthless in protecting his wife, but his only child. If Suzu was in enough distress, it would force her into labor. The house and the research, Takeo could stand to lose. His wife, Takeo didn't know if he was strong enough to survive her death. But everything, his wife, and the child?

No! Finding a reserve of strength he didn't know he had, he took his wife's hands in his. "No! I will not lose hope! I will fight to save you both!" he pledged. Footsteps rapidly approaching the other side of the cherry tree jarred Takeo from his vow, and he readied himself for the confrontation. He looked around the tree for anything that might help him defend his family. The branches at the ground weren't nearly sturdy enough to swing. "Come on!" he pleaded, but there was nothing he could use. He balled his hands into fists and braced himself to hit the man approaching the tree. As the assassin took a final step towards the tree, Takeo tensed, rotated from behind the tree and swung as hard as he could.

* * *

The assassin was ready to flank the tree and finish the job. Just as he took the last step, he heard footfalls behind him. He spun quickly, only to find Yuta staring at him strangely. "What are you doing down here, Kami?"

Kami quickly brought up the pistol and trained it on Yuta's head. "Your job. You've fucked me over for the last time Yuta!"

Yuta closed his eyes and flinched as the gun fired. Yuta waited for the impact, but it never came. After a beat, he perplexedly discovered that he was still alive. He opened his eyes, only to see Kami sprawled out on the ground, and a figure posed behind him, with a thin line of blood running down his forehead.

* * *

Takeo looked down at the grey-haired assassin. He had gone for a punch, but seeing the assassin faced away from him, he changed tactics. He grabbed the assassin with both hands and head butted him. Tapping on his head with his knuckles, Takeo looked down at the fallen killer. "Hard head."

Takeo then realized he was face to face with another man dressed all in black. Takeo narrowed his eyes at this new target and took a step towards him. Yuta yelped and ran the other direction. Every bit of bloodlust screamed at Takeo to follow him and to avenge the injuries to his wife and child, but thought the better of it. After all, he didn't really need a worse headache at this point. He heard sirens approaching the main gate. The police would arrest the assassin and the paramedics would be with his wife in mere seconds. He turned back to his wife and held her in his arms. He looked upon her face, only to lock eyes with her. Slowly and between quick, labored breaths, he saw a sad smile slowly form on her lips. He leaned over, kissed her forehead and gently rocked her limp form in his lap. He wanted to smile back, to feel elation for his small victory here, but he knew that the worst was likely still to come.

* * *

Takeo sat in the private waiting room that Matsazawa Hospital had provided for him, alone in his own private hell. His wife had been taken by the paramedics as soon as they had arrived on the scene. She didn't look like she was in good shape.

As humans are wont to do, he spent his time in that room tearing himself apart. Despite having saved his wife's life, at least temporarily, he still found himself doubting his actions. Why didn't he take a different route out of the bedroom? Why didn't he lead her to the safety of the cherry trees _before_ she was shot? It's entirely possible that he could have avoided her getting shot altogether, if only he had realized the danger. If only he had realized…

"Gods! How could I be so stupid?" he implored himself, his bandaged head falling into his hands. Deep down, he knew nothing could have saved them from what had happened earlier that fateful night. That didn't stop him from feeling like he had failed his wife and his child though.

After an eternity, the doctor cautiously entered the room. Takeo stood up and deeply bowed to the doctor.

The doctor returned the bow. "Please sit down, Mr. Mihama." Takeo felt sick, but he sat down and looked anxiously to him. The doctor sat in silence, composing his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he made eye contact and began.

"The injuries to your wife were very severe. We did everything that we could, but your wife passed away. There was just too much internal damage and blood loss. I am sorry for your loss. " The doctor prepared himself for the worst reaction from Mr. Mihama. After all, Mr. Mihama was a celebrity in Japan. He was famed for precisely two reasons: for his brilliant research, and his equally brilliant temper. He had grown more reasonable after he had married, but now, without his anchor to support him, who knew how he would react? The doctor fully expected Mr. Mihama to complain and for him to be fired for his "incompetence," but he was surprised when Takeo just looked down and didn't respond. Not even so much as a flinch, or a facial tick. In a split second, something about this man had changed: his eyes were now pools of emptiness with no sense of thought behind them. "Mr. Mihama?"

Takeo's expression didn't change. His eyes didn't focus. His mouth, however, did open slightly. His low voice said evenly "What about…"

The doctor didn't know how to react. He had expected screaming, shouting, wailing, or _some _sort of emotion from the man sitting across from him. Of course people grieve in different ways, but this… This was unexpected. He rose out of his train of thought and cleared his voice.

"Ah, yes. The child. The trauma to your wife induced an early labor. We performed a c-section to minimize the trauma to both parties. The child survived. She is currently resting. I can take you to her if you'd like."

Takeo just stared at the doctor for a minute. In an even, emotionless voice, he intoned "…A girl?"

The doctor wasn't done yet though. "There is one thing you should know. It's actually quite remarkable. Your wife was twenty-eight weeks pregnant. Considering the premature birth, we were worried that there would be complications. But your daughter seemed to be just fine. She's underweight, but otherwise she's seems to have developed at an accelerated rate. Her neurological indices… our tests can't even measure brain activity that high." The doctor looked to the new father to gauge his reaction.

Staring back at him was the same vacant expression he'd seen moments before. The doctor pursed his lips. This obviously wasn't going well.

"Anyway, the prognosis for your daughter is very good. Please don't hesitate to let us know if we can be of more assistance." The doctor rose and gave Takeo a deep bow. Quietly, he approached the door. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled a small chain out of his pocket. He fingered the small item pensively and approached Takeo.

"One last thing, Mr. Mihama. Your wife was clutching something around her neck when she was admitted to the ER. We found this in her hand." He held out the necklace and flash drive to Takeo. Takeo seemed to come out of his daze for a second as he looked up with a confused expression. He took the drive and held it up to his eye. It was undamaged.

The doctor turned around with his hand on the door handle. Takeo, still looking at the drive, finally spoke up. "Doctor?"

The doctor turned back.

"Thank you."

The doctor nodded and stepped outside. Takeo heard the door click shut. Apart from the air vents humming quietly in the background, silence settled through the room. Takeo disconnected the drive from the necklace and placed it in his shirt pocket. Holding the necklace, his memories plagued him. He remembered how he had placed it around Suzu's neck that first time many years ago. How he had leaned in and smelled the intoxicating scent of her skin and hair. How he remembered his promise to love her forever. Thoughtfully, he turned the pendant in his hands. Just as silently as his surroundings, the beginnings of tear drops appeared at the corner of his eyes.

* * *

Takeo handed the necklace from one hand to the other as he stood against the glass. Through the partition, he observed his daughter, now dressed in a tiny pink paper gown and a blue wristband. Even looking at his daughter, serene now in her incubator, he couldn't help but be haunted by what her mother had said earlier that night. What kind of world would his daughter grow up in? How would she adapt to this increasingly hostile and dangerous world?

A nurse approached Takeo. "Excuse me, Mr. Mihama. Have you decided on a name for your daughter?" Takeo awoke from his reverie and turned to look at her. A name? They'd never decided. He stared at the child for a moment, watching her rest. He looked down at the pendant and saw the two simple kanji. _Chi-yo_.

"Chiyo. Her name is Mihama Chiyo."

* * *

A/N: Hey AzuDai Community! This is my first fan-fiction, and my first long-form fiction in many years. Hopefully, my routine will come back to me, and I'll be able to push out the next chapters relatively quickly.

Yeah, this is long, heavy, and dark for a prologue, but there was a lot of story to set up for the main story. The main story should be a more lighthearted fare than this and closer to the girls' everyday life.

I look forward to what you all think/ have to say, so please review! If you have any questions, I'll respond to them via PM or in bulk in the next Author's Note. Hope you enjoyed the first bit, and here's to a quick update!

-Dr. Mason


	2. Chapter 1: Setting the Trap

Please Note: I do not own Azumanga Daioh; Copyright Kiyohiko Azuma, ADV Films. This work is protected under Parody and other Provisions under Fair Use.

Chapter 1

The long green tiled hallway reverberated with the noise of a thousand energetic students loosed upon the world, freed of their bonds for another two months. The pushing, shoving, and general impatience that accompanied their rush to be liberated from the rigors of study belied this group's great potential. Most of these students would one day be engineers, chemists, teachers, and stuffed animal store managers. But for the moment, they had earned a break. They could forget about the years of rigorous study to come, at least for a couple months. It was summer at last.

The mass of uniformed adolescents crowded around the main entrance to the school, the door bottlenecking the eager individuals. Ironically enough, while most people rushed to exit the building as fast as their limbs could carry them, one person was trying desperately to swim against the stream of people to get back in.

"Get out of the way! Can't you see someone of importance is trying to get in?" It was no use; the students were coming out too fast for Yukari Tanizaki to make any progress. At this rate, it would take her more time than she had to spare just to reach the inner sanctum of the school. Her long brown hair shimmered in the setting sun as she ducked and weaved through the outgoing students, trying to make headway against the relentless crowd.

"What, do you think you own the place? Move it!" Finally, the tide of people waned and she crossed the threshold. "Finally!" Wiping her brow, Yukari cursed the hubris of youth… and her shallow pockets.

The disheveled teacher made a beeline for the third story and swiftly reached Classroom 3-3. She put her hand on the door and prepared to slide it to the side when she heard scuffling inside. Someone was in there! A student – and probably searching for her precious lost wallet! Yes, an observant student must have seen the wallet drop from her jacket pocket and then waited for her to leave so they could get their grubby little hands on her beloved 10,000¥! Well, not today! He would have to pry it from her cold, dead fingers first.

She readied herself to slide the door, charge the thief and trounce him with her patented flying dropkick. It had leveled many adversaries in the past, and it would serve her well today. Yukari looked down to her shoes. "High heels, huh. Well, I don't want to kill the guy…" Change of plans – she would beat him into submission with the bouquet of flowers she held. She steadied herself, smoothed out the wrinkles in her jacket, slung the bushel of flowers over her shoulder, and moved in for the kill.

As Yukari slid the door to the right, her adrenaline rush quickly dissipated. Yukari looked into the dark classroom, finding not a thief, but a girl driven to despair by the thought of the life she'd yet to live. This seemingly lost young woman looked stoically at the desks, and slowly inhaled, smelling the lingering scent of chalk in the air.

"Hey, Kagura, what's the matter?" Kagura snapped to attention and looked to the unassuming woman, cast in shadow by the sunset's yellow light. Though all she could see was a silhouette, Kagura knew the person to whom it belonged.

"Sensei…"

Yukari approached Kagura, her aggressive intentions quickly forgotten. Yukari looked at her former pupil pensively.

"What is it? Did you forget something?"

Kagura shifted her eyes quickly from Yukari's and looked down at the object closest to her. Tenderly, she stroked a desk with her fingertips. "Say, sensei, would it be bad to take a chair or desk home after all?"

"Well, yeah, that would be bad."

"I was thinking of taking something back as a keepsake, but…"

Yukari thought for a moment, trying to read between the lines. Suddenly her eyes widened with understanding and mentally she smirked. Kagura had not really fit into the social scene at the school: in a society where tradition and strict gender norms were highly valued, Kagura had been somewhat of a rebel. She had traits that could be considered "feminine," but her tomboy reputation always preceded her. That is, until she had been transferred to Yukari's class. Somehow, she managed to find a small clique of girls who saw past her jock façade and see her for the complete personality that she was.

"Of course," Yukari thought, "she's going to a new school without her support group. What can I say to that?" After a moment of contemplation, the sensei closed her eyes and started with a kind, but smug, tone.

"Don't worry; you're already taking something back with you." Kagura looked confused, just as expected. Yukari continued.

"Yes! Your memories of the time you spent with everyone!" Inwardly, Yukari imagined an explosion of wind chimes ringing out and a soft, but vibrant, pink backdrop framing her revelation. "Damn, I'm brilliant!" she thought.

Though Kagura missed the ringing of the chime and the dramatic backdrop, she felt the weight of Yukari's kind and reassuring words. She instinctively flashed back on the mental souvenirs she'd taken throughout her three years at the high school. The first time she'd see Sakaki run, her first tussle with Tomo, Chiyo wriggling in her penguin suit, Osaka's strange fascination with fireworks… The emotional resonance of each event built and built, slowly filling the empty pit she felt in her stomach. The emotion flowed forth slowly and as her strong defenses slowly wore down, tears began to stream down her face.

"Thank you, Yukari-sensei!" she cried out, her tears wetting the dusty linoleum.

"What? Huh?" Perhaps that had been a bit _too_ effective.

As Kagura stood frozen to the spot, feeling the warmth of the last three years spread throughout her body, Yukari eyed her neglected wallet beside her desk. She subtly slipped around Kagura, picked up her wallet on the floor and placed it this time in the inside pocket of her magenta coat.

After a moment, Kagura regained her composure, and looked up at Yukari. Suddenly embarrassed by how she looked, she straightened up, put on her tomboy persona and rubbed the back of her head with one hand. "Sorry, I guess I just didn't expect you to say something so helpful."

Yukari knew that she wasn't well known for her sensitive side. In fact, most people were sure that the teacher had been born without one. But the truth was that she'd never been put in a situation where that side of her was required, until now. She decided that, considering Kagura's weakened state, it would be unsporting to come back with an angry response.

She waved away the back-handed compliment. "Well, I'm not _Nyamo, _but I have my moments."

Kagura wondered how Yukari did that – how she managed to sound both disappointed with the world and proud of herself at the same time. "I suppose. Well, thank you again!"

"Yeah, yeah. Now get out of here! I have to go pick up my final paycheck!" Yukari moved Kagura towards the door and slid it open.

Just outside the classroom stood five of Kagura's best friends. Osaka was holding a small keychain to her forehead, chanting some mantra, while Yomi was desperately yelling at her to stop. Tomo and Sakaki looked on the spectacle undisturbed, while the horrified Chiyo-chan quivered behind Sakaki's long legs. Yukari mentally slapped her palm to her head. "How has this group of girls not killed each other yet? Whatever, they're not my problem anymore!" As she thought, she looked at the group, and then to Chiyo. "Except for you, little Chiyo-chan."

Yukari struck a pose and tried to shoo them away. "What's the matter? Hurry up and go home." Amongst themselves, the students continued to discuss their plans and began to filter out. Yukari turned to leave when something caught her eye. Behind the group of small girls and several stories down stood a tall woman. This woman, adorned in a white headband, an expensive blue jacket and a pleated skirt, was not a teacher at the school. She was too young to be anyone's mother, but too old to be a student. Even more interesting was that she was conversing with a male student that Yukari recognized from Nyamo's class. Nyamo mentioned that this boy, Takeda, was warm with his friends but awkward around attractive girls he didn't know. With these girls, he always managed to fumble over himself or accidently steer the conversation to an embarrassing subject. Right now, as Yukari watched, he nearly lost his balance and fell over just talking to this woman. "Very awkward indeed," Yukari noted.

Why was she talking to him in the first place if she didn't know him? Takeda was far from what Yukari would call "handsome," so it couldn't be that. Even from this glimpse, Yukari instantly could recognize that this woman didn't belong, and she was trying hard to fit in.

"Could it be that she is after Chiyo?" Chiyo was leaving soon – Yukari would have to think of something fast. Without missing a beat, Yukari completed her turn and began walking. She called out to Kagura and her friends, "See ya. Be careful on your way home."

"You too, Yukari-sensei!" Yomi replied.

"Sure thing." She continued to walk away, picking up her stride when she was held back by one last comment.

"Let's go on a trip during the summer again!"

Yukari didn't even turn back to address Tomo's outburst. She appreciated the invitation, but she had something urgent to attend to. "Sure, if I feel like it." She lazily waved Tomo off as she had done so many times over the past three years. "See you guys around."

Yukari quickly walked down the hallway, and turned the corner, only to find another familiar face. Kaorin sat slumped against the wall of this darkened hallway, her head in her hands. Yukari couldn't spend any more time being sincere, so she did the next best thing she could think of. She dropped the bouquet in Kaorin's lap and tousled her hair. "Don't worry, Kaori. Things will get better." Yukari quickly marched away, leaving Kaorin absolutely stupefied.

"I guess Mrs. Yukari can be pretty cool…" She wiped her eyes and looked at the huge bouquet of flowers. "But still not as cool as Ms. Sakaki."

* * *

Yukari quickly walked towards the stairwell, all the while tracking the strange woman out the window. Yukari couldn't put her finger on it, but the closer she got to the woman, the more she felt an ominous portent. She needed to bring someone else on this. She discretely put a small capsule into her right ear. She fingered the top button on her white blouse and felt it click between her fingers. A couple seconds later, she heard Nyamo's strained voice whispering in her ear.

"I swear Yukari, if you're calling to pressure me to pay for your dinner again, I can't be held responsible for what I'll do to you."

"What? When have I ever done anything like that? Oh, I get it – you're jealous because last night you couldn't get any play, while I had to fend men off with a stick!"

Nyamo did everything she could to contain herself. She failed. "THAT'S NOT THE ISSUE HERE!" She paused and regained at least a temporary sense of control. "It's our _last day_ of detail. I've put up with it for the past I-don't-know-how-long, but seriously…" she trailed off.

"I'm closing the line now."

"No! Nyamo, we can talk about dinner later. This is serious. I'm in the North-West stairwell, between the second and first floors. How soon can you get here?"

Yukari heard Nyamo sigh through her earpiece. "Okay. Give me two minutes."

* * *

Nyamo looked intently out the window at the woman. "I don't know, Yukari. She doesn't really look out of place…"

"Oh! Come on! She's talking to Takeda." Nyamo stared blankly at Yukari, failing to divine what Yukari was inferring. Yukari tried again. She grabbed Nyamo and shoved her face into the glass while pointing at Takeda. "She, a beautiful and expensively dressed woman, is talking…. to…. _Takeda_. Pimply, unibrowed, awkward _TAKEDA_."

Nyamo tried in vain to speak with her mouth pressed to the window. "_Yukawwi, dis idn't helbing._" Yukari let her go as Nyamo gulped down air. When she'd recovered, Nyamo sighed. "You assume too much. Maybe it's someone's sister, or maybe he appeals to her, or…"

Yukari cut in. "Or maybe she's a spy! Look!" She pointed again to the woman. Chiyo-chan and her five friends walked slowly out into the yard in front of the school. Chiyo stopped to look back nostalgically at the school, with her brown briefcase in one hand and her black diploma in the other. The woman in blue, who had previously been enthralled with Takeda, now seemed to be equally enthralled with Chiyo. As the woman started walking away, Takeda tried to follow and tripped over himself. When she didn't look back, he was visibly crushed.

"…or maybe she's spying." Nyamo admitted. "Ok, that's harder to explain."

"No! It's _easier _to explain… if she's working for Shiryo!"

Nyamo took a step back, mouth agape. She stared at Yukari, her eyes nothing more than small white circles. "You might be right!" She spun back to the crowd outside. "Did she really draw them out?" Chiyo was leaving with her friends, and the woman seemed to be advancing towards them.

"Whoever that woman is, it looks like she's making a move."

Yukari grabbed Nyamo by the arm and rushed her down the stairs. "If she makes her move now, we won't be able to stop her in time, and we won't know who she's working for. Follow my lead!"

Yukari and Nyamo exited the front doors, watching the woman slowly approach the group. Yukari and Nyamo ran until they were 15 meters behind the woman. Yukari slowed down to a normal walk, released Nyamo's arm, and then began talking loudly to Nyamo.

"And do you know what I overheard Chiyo talking about? Going to Magic Land after the announcement! And after that, they'll drive to her summer estate and spend the night. Rich little twerp!" Yukari looked to Nyamo, who was concentrating on massaging her sore arm and smoothing out the sleeve on her blue jacket. Yukari cleared her voice. "Ahem…Wouldn't it be nice if we could join them one last time?"

Nyamo looked up to Yukari, sighed, and begrudgingly picked up Yukari's cue. "Yeah! But if we do, I'm driving. There's no way I'd let you drive my car again. Not through that deserted part of the woods. If we crashed, no one would know about it for weeks."

"What, you've lost faith in me because of that one little scratch? Are you really that cheap?"

Nyamo played up her anger. "One little scratch? How about the huge dent on the driver's side door, and the front bumper, and Gods, the entire Rainbow Bridge incident! And…"

"Ok, enough, enough. You know, it's just like you to bring up the past."

Nyamo turned to Yukari again. "Hey, if we're going to invite ourselves, shouldn't we confirm with the girls?"

"Why?" Yukari whined. "Wouldn't it be so much fun to surprise them and then catch them in the act?"

"Catching them in the act implies that they'd do something scandalous."

"But Nyamo," Yukari replied smugly, "you know all too well what happens when you get a group of girls alone on a summer night."

Even though it was all supposed to be an act, Nyamo couldn't hold back her very real blush. Nyamo swore she could still taste the bitter sake on her tongue from that one disastrous night. "You will pay for bringing that up. We should ask them precisely becausewe _want_ to avoid that."

"Nyamo, you're no fun." Yukari quickly glanced at the woman ahead of them. She had slowed down and was lagging behind Chiyo by a larger margin. "Good," Yukari thought, "she's listening."

They hurried past the woman to catch up with Chiyo and her group. "Hey, girls!" The small clique sweat-dropped as they looked back at the two teachers jogging towards them in their high heels. Yukari reached the group first, but doubled over, out of breath.

"Tomo…. You… Magic…." Nyamo arrived, looking at Yukari with scorn. She'd run only 30 meters, but was out of breath? Shifting her attention to the girls, her expression softened considerably. She completed Yukari's thought.

"Tomo, you said that we could come with you guys this summer. If you wouldn't mind too much, we could take you all to the Mihama summer estate after you go Magic Land."

Tomo jumped in the air, declaring her approval. "Alright! We can go swimming again! I'll bring a watermelon!"

Kagura joined in, lifting her arm in a victory pose. "And I'll bring a bat!" She opened her eyes to see Tomo looking back at her with sad, bubbly eyes.

"Bu..bu..but I wanted to break it with my karate! No fair!"

"But you don't even know karate." Yomi reminded her.

Tomo put her hands on her hips and smiled. "Well, we could have Yomi break it instead with her amazing Sumo technique!"Tomo assumed a wide stance, lifting one leg and slapping her inner thighs. Behind Tomo, a red vein began quickly pulsating on Yomi's forehead.

"She could finally put that weight to good…"

"DOUBLE CHOP!" Tomo crumpled to the ground, leaving Yomi's hand hovering where Tomo's head used to be.

One group member seemed strangely detached from the commotion surrounding her. "Hey, d'ya think we could bring some of those fireworks we set off b'fore?"

Chiyo looked at Osaka and beamed. "Yeah! That was really fun. I'll be sure to have them delivered before we get there!" Osaka's eyes began to shine, reflecting the light from the firecrackers she would light in the coming days, and her smile slowly crept across her face.

Sakaki nodded and quietly added, "Maya should like them too."

"And I'll drive!" Yukari loudly joined in. It was almost as if an earthquake knocked everyone but Chiyo over, who just turned white and quivered involuntarily in front of Yukari. Nyamo put her hand on Chiyo's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll drive. You know I drive carefully. I'll take one of your Dad's vans, pick you all up from Magic Land and we'll drive to the beach house."

Chiyo regained her usual color, but stood still for a beat. Suddenly she snapped out of her thoughts and vigorously nodded her head. "Yes! I'll talk to him right away and have it arranged!"

"Good. We'll pick you up when the park closes at 18:00. Until then!"

"Bye sensei!" the girls all called. Yomi picked up the still limp form of her best friend.

"Owww, Yomi…"

"You got what you deserved."

The group of girls began chattering about their new plan as they walked home. Yukari and Nyamo walked towards the school. They noticed the spy casually leaning against the front gate of the school, whispering into her cell phone. The crowd noise drowned most of the conversation out, but as Yukari and Nyamo passed her, they heard the words "summer estate." Yukari and Nyamo couldn't help but smile as they walked to Nyamo's car.

Yukari approached the driver's side and looked to Nyamo with her hand outstretched. Nyamo batted her hand down. "In your dreams. Get in the passenger side." Yukari's smile dropped instantly off her face.

"What? Why?"

"I told you that you would pay for bringing up that comment before."

"You were taking that seriously? I was playing a role!"

"And this is when you learn that my feelings are not something you play with!"

Yukari muttered as she walked around the back of the car and got in the passenger side. Nyamo looked to the clear, blue sky in frustration. She paused for a moment, feeling the sunlight warm her face. Reluctantly, she opened the door and got inside her car.

"OK, let's call Kimura." Nyamo looked to Yukari, who was staring in front of her with a blank expression on her face. Yukari's breathing quickened as a realization dawned on her.

"My paycheck! I forgot my final paycheck!" Nyamo had never seen Yukari move so fast as she jumped out of the car and ran back towards the school. Nyamo leaned over and closed Yukari's door. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that day, she started the car and pushed the top button on her blue jacket twice. Kimura's nasally voice came over the car speakers.

"Yes?"

"This is Kurosawa."

There was a pause. "Just you Kurosawa?"

"Yep. It's just me."

There was a moment of silence. "Where is Tanizaki?" Almost immediately, Kimura answered his own question. "Oh. Paycheck?"

Nyamo confirmed. "Paycheck."

"What can I do for you, Minamo?"

"We have a lead. We'll meet at the safe house in half an hour."

"I'll be there."

The line went silent, the only sound in the car the slight hum of the speakers. Nyamo looked towards the school, waiting for Yukari. The school shimmered, the light casting long, angular shadows over the car as the sun continued to set. Nyamo looked longingly at the school. Three long years she'd spent there, and they'd brought her happiness and fulfillment. They had been some of the most quiet and carefree of her rather short career. It looked as if that phase of her life had passed, judging by the events of earlier that day. As she admired the sunset, she could only speculate at what the next phase of her life would bring.


	3. Chapter 2: Ab Vrbe Condita Libri

Please Note: I do not own Azumanga Daioh; Copyright Kiyohiko Azuma, ADV Films. This work is protected under Parody and other Provisions under Fair Use.

Return to Glory

Chapter 2:

_Ab Vrbe Condita Libri_

_

* * *

_

Izanagi's men approached the tall marble doors with hesitation. None of them were sure what the proper protocol was and they weren't really sure what to expect once they went inside. They had heard plenty about what happened _after_ these meetings though. Half the men who stepped through this doorway never stepped back out; the other half left rich men in highly respected positions in the organization. What transpired behind these doors, though, was a complete mystery.

The men shuffled their feet restlessly, unconsciously patting their hips and arms while they engaged in small talk. Izanagi couldn't help but shake his head at the sight. Could they be any more obvious about carrying concealed weapons? He had invested so much time in training them, and they still failed him on an hourly basis. In fact, they seemed equally incompetent when he first was paired with them a year ago. He remembered it clearly: Arata had managed to fit his Glock 23 .40 S&W into his belt, but when he walked, his hand constantly hovered over the gun. Izanagi hastily slapped Arata's hand away, grimaced, and quickly followed up his first strike with a backhand to Arata's temple.

"The first rule of carrying is NEVER let anyone else know you're carrying. The moment anyone sees you touch your hip, adjust your pants too often, or walk with an uneven gait, you've given away the entire team. If any of you give away the team, I will gladly kill you myself." His eyes bored into the other four members of the team. "If any of us are caught, we're as good as dead, or worse. You've heard the stories."

They all had puffed out their chests and pledged their allegiance to the team but he still caught them reverting to their old habits. Even at this moment, he spied Arata's left hand dangerously close to the small of his back – where he currently stored his S&W. Izanagi had considered making good on his promise, but honestly, he doubted he could bring himself to carry through. He hadn't been put in any danger, yet. As long as they weren't in danger of killing him, he wouldn't go out of his way to punish them.

Izanagi's cool demeanor, leaning against the wall with his black leather jacket over his shoulder, belied the adrenaline presently coursing through his veins. Of the members of his team, he was unique in knowing exactly how dangerous Shiryo could be. He couldn't help but remember how the organization had made an example out of Ryuk.

* * *

"Oh, come on, Ryuk! You have to tell me _something!_ You met the all-powerful Shiryo – and now cat's got your tongue?"

Ryuk slowly chuckled through his heavily drunken state. "That's clever. " Izanagi's look of puzzlement didn't seem to faze Ryuk.

"Man, I ain't telling you _shit_. All I'z sayin', Izzi, is that you should just… just keep your head down and work hard. Y'know, bring honor to the organization, an' all that." He took another swig of his heated sake, wincing as the alcohol slowly made its way down his throat. "Or better yet, bring money! That's worth more than honor!" The newly appointed Shateigashira slowly moved his glass over to meet the rim of Izanagi's beer.

Izanagi chuckled and clicked Ryuk's glass with his bottle. Taking his time, Izzi reached for the bottle of sake and refilled Ryuk's glass. "One thing. C'mon! I'm dying to know here. Just one thing about the big boss man. I won't tell a soul. Promise on the lives of my family."

Ryuk's just chuckled again, his large mass shaking heartily in his seat. As he realized that Izanagi wasn't going to let up, his celebratory nature left him.

"Hey, look man, we go back a ways. I like ya – you're a nice guy Izzi. But…"

"Ah, I see what you're saying. I just haven't found your price." Izzi rummaged through his pockets. Finding a business card, he presented in front of Ryuk. "This guy's got the best girls in town. And, it just so happens that he owes me money. Let's say, hypothetically, that you were to take over his credit; I'm sure you could _leverage_ something out of that."

Izzi had actually been looking for a way to get this assignment off his hands – he always felt dirty just talking to the pimp, much less laying hand on him. The happy coincidence that Ryuk just happened to have a fetish for imported girls was too convenient to pass up. Izzi flicked the business card with his other hand. "One detail, Ryuk, and you'll have something to celebrate every day."

Ryuk lecherously eyed the card, as if it was well-endowed woman's bosom from his favorite moe manga. He looked around the noisy bar, squinting to see if he could make out the faces of anyone that could overhear them. Slowly, he turned back to Izanagi. Despite his large size, his arm moved with the speed of a striking Okinawan Habu, snatching the card from Izzi's scarred fingertips. "Okay – one thing. But after, you still owe me." Izzi's heart was beating fast now. "Deal. Now give."

Ryuk stared at Izzi blankly for a beat, squinting to see him through the red lights that bathed the bar in warm colors. "I can't tell you much," he whispered. "The only thing I'll tell you is that…its eyes… they're not…"

A hushed noise emanated from Ryuk's overcoat. Frowning, he turned to retrieve his vibrating cell phone.

"What? They're not what?"

Lifting the screen to his eyes, he squinted at the screen. "…human." Quickly he closed it, hurriedly gathered his belongings, and started heading for the door.

Izzi threw his hands in the air. "Wha…was that it? That he made googly-eyes at you? Whooo… big macho man sitting across the table turned out to be nothing but a sheep in a wolf's clothing!"

Ryuk looked at Izzi with pity in his dulled eyes. "You can say what you want. I've said too much already." He reached for his pocket and clumsily fingered through a stack of bills. "Gotta go. That was the Wakagashira – I need to… be somewhere." Ryuk pulled on his overcoat and hat. He looked back to Izanagi, the brim covering his eyes. With a tone that almost resembled sadness to Izanagi, he said, "See you around, Izzi."

As Ryuk turned to leave, Izzi called out to him, "Hey, 'its eyes?' Don't you mean 'his'?"

Ryuk turned back and waved him off. "Yeah, whatever," he slurred as he shoved through the back door.

* * *

It wasn't the conversation that disturbed Izzi now. No, what concerned him is that the day after their conversation, no one ever saw Ryuk or his family again. Hell, there wasn't even a trace of his family's name in any record kept.

Ever.

Izzi couldn't be sure that it was the conversation that led to Ryuk's disappearance, but after that little incident, any other person who defied Shiryo or the organization in any way had a nasty habit of disappearing, leaving as much trace behind as if they had been sucked into the ether of space. No person who had ever set eyes on Shiryo ever said another word about the enigmatic figure.

None of Izzi's men had heard about Ryuk specifically, but Izzi told them about the disappearances whenever they acted out of line. His scare tactic seemed to work: perhaps that was why they were trembling as they knocked on the marbled doors. A small, grated metal panel beside the door crackled to life. A curt, muffled reply came. "Please, come in."

As Izzi's team swung the door open, their eyes struggled to adjust to the low light. After their pupils had dilated slightly, they detected a slight glow at one end of the room. There sat a table for two, with two elegant red chairs illuminated by the crackling fireplace behind them. The small group of men began walking towards the fireplace and table, but even at their brisk pace, it would take at least a full minute to cross the enormous room.

On the journey, they couldn't help but try to take in their surroundings. The one thing they noticed right away was that this room seemed to be very narrow – perhaps only as wide as the hallway they just came from. Yet, their footfalls echoed distantly as they walked across the polished marble floors. It was only then that they realized that they were walking down a narrow aisle, with row upon row of bookshelves surrounding them. And lining the hundreds of shelves around them were thousands upon thousands of tomes. It was almost as if they were in an ancient library of sorts.

The impact seemed to be lost on Izzi's men. Izzi wasn't surprised. His men didn't really join the organization because they were avid readers. He, on the other hand, was struck by the collection. A man could spend a hundred, no, a thousand lifetimes perusing the material that was contained in this room. Obviously, Shiryo couldn't have read much of this, but even if he had read just a tiny fraction of the information contained in this room, it was no wonder he was the Oyabun. What other surprises awaited them in this room?

Finally, Izzi and his men reached the table. The back of Shiryo's chair was blocking their view of him, and they didn't dare approach him without his permission. They waited in silence until Shiryo addressed them again.

"Yamato Izanagi?"

Izzi was expecting anything but the voice he heard – the voice had a much higher timbre than he expected. Almost that of a child… For the moment, he pushed his surprise aside.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have a word with your men. I need a quick favor from them. Would you give us some privacy for a moment?"

"Of course."

"Please, feel free to browse the shelves. I trust you'll find something to your taste. I'll call you momentarily."

Izzi bowed deeply as he responded. "Yes, Shiryo. Thank you." He felt rather silly, as he suspected Shiryo couldn't see his sign of respect, but he didn't dare make a wrong step now.

Izzi walked towards the nearest bookshelf. Though just 10 meters from the table, Izzi felt as if he were in a different world altogether. The books were like none he had ever seen. The bindings were ornate, embossed with thin, elegant lines gold and silver leaf. The titles were another mystery unto themselves: most were in foreign languages, strange languages. But it wasn't until he came across a set of volumes that he recognized that he unearthed the biggest mystery yet. He ran his fingers over the letters engraved on the side of the binding. "_Ab vrbe condita libri_?" He was convinced it was a joke until he saw the name of the author. "_**Livy**_?"

Izzi let the awe of the enormous 142 volume set wash over him. "It takes up less than one-hundredth of a percent of the books in here!"

A small, high-pitched voice interrupted Izzi's thoughts. "Yamato Izanagi!" Wow. That _was_ but a moment.

Izzi staggered back, his mind still failing to comprehend what he had seen. It was going to be a long night.

"Please join me." Izzi saw a petite hand motion to the other chair. Curiously, his view of the chair was unobstructed; the rest of his team was no longer present. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to question what had happened to them. He walked to the table and took a seat. He looked to the other seat and his breath caught in his throat.

He found himself staring at a child. A young girl – maybe 12 to 13 years old. He could have noticed her long, silky hair, her fairly tall stature for her age, or the fact that her smile was warm and inviting. No, what he noticed were the eyes. It was apparent why she chose the low lighting conditions and the fireplace in this large room. The light of the fire reflected off of her eyes, creating two seemingly brilliant gold spheres where her eyes would be, the vertical slits of her pupils just barely visible behind the shining golden eyes. It was almost… as if she had the eyes of a cat.

"We meet at last, Izanagi. I've heard quite a lot about you and your latest success. Allow me to offer you my most sincere congratulations."

Izzi was put off by the fact that she had resorted to using his first name, and without an honorific at that. Regardless, he wasn't about to say anything. Izzi bowed his head instinctively, thankful for the brief respite from staring into Shiryo's eyes. "Thank you very much, Shiryo."

The girl looked at Izzi for a moment, slightly cocking her head to one side. "You seem a little on edge. You're not worried about your men, aren't you? Oh! Of course, it must be my appearance! I'm sorry; my eyes must be creating a lot of glare." She reached for a remote beside her chair and turned a dial. The fire dimmed a bit and overhead lights illuminated automatically. The ambient light did help with the reflected light, but did nothing to quiet Izzi's discomfort when he looked up to see her abnormally shaped pupils.

"There. Now that that's been taken care of..." Shiryo paused and leaned forward. She peered at Izzi intently.

"It's interesting. You don't strike me as a graduate of Tokyo University."

Izzi shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "My path wasn't exactly conventional."

"Hmmm. So it wasn't." Shiryo leaned back and crossed her legs. "How are your parents, by the way?"

"They still walk with a limp, but I suppose they're thankful for their lives."

"They can't have been happy with your decision to join the organization though."

Izzi noticed that his hands were gripping the arms of the chair a bit too tightly. Where was she going with this? "They don't know. They think that I'm working as a salaryman in Okinawa."

The left corner of Shiryo's lips curled upward into a smirk. "That's clever. I suppose you don't want to tell them how you really paid off their debt."

Izanagi found himself having to choose his words very carefully. "There's no reason for them to know."

"Indeed. I think I agree with you, for now at least." Shiryo repositioned her legs so that she sat on them, assuming a more formal sitting posture. "Well, I hate to stray from small talk, but I believe it's best we get down to business."

Was that really her idea of small talk, Izzi wondered? Shiryo's eyes narrowed and she cleared her voice.

"Tell me Izanagi, what do you know of the stock market?"

Izzi mentally recoiled. Shiryo certainly knew how to catch him off-guard. "Do you mean the Nikkei, or possibly the American stock markets?"

Shiryo leaned back and smiled. "You impress me, Izanagi. I really shouldn't expect anything less, considering your ability. And to answer your question, either will do, for the purposes of our conversation." With effort, she lifted herself from the chair and faced the fireplace, casting her shadow over Izzi.

"The thing that interests me about the stock market," she continued, "is just how important it's become to humans as of late. If you think about it, it's a recent development in the history of man-kind, but now all of civilization relies on it. Countries literally live and die by the stock market.

"There's one apparent contradiction that fascinates me. Tell me, do you know what happens when a publically traded company grows, but not enough to meet the expectations of its investors?"

Izzi felt confident of his answer, but didn't like where this was going. "Yes. Even though the company did well, if it did not meet the expectations of the investors, the company will suffer."

"Precisely! And its employees will suffer with it." Shiryo turned back around to face Izzi and talk to him directly. "I find myself in a similar position with you right now." Izzi gulped.

"You see, your latest mission was a success. The briefcase containing vital instructions to our allies in the United States was delivered and now the English Prime Minister is dead. But your methods of accomplishing this put us behind schedule. If we keep with the metaphor, our company grew. But we haven't met expectations." Shiryo began moving slowly towards Izzi. "What happens in that scenario?"

Izzi's throat clenched as he tried to respond. "Our… our organization suffers."

"And?"

"And I suffer."

Shiryo smiled, revealing a line of sharp, pointed teeth. "Well, yes and no. You performed well, but your battalion failed you. It was their mistakes that put us behind schedule. I don't see a future for them. For you, though..."

Shiryo was interrupted by two servants carrying out small, silver platters. They gingerly placed it on the table, the tray making a small _clink_ as it was placed on the granite tabletop. Removing the covers, the servants revealed a small ceramic bowl with four deep holes. In each hole was a large snail, topped with oil and pesto sauce.

Shiryo's calm demeanor briefly changed. She couldn't contain her glee as she skipped over to the table. "Escargot! Ah, with pesto too." Shiryo took a small silver, curved fork and eagerly dug one out. "My chef knows it's my favorite food. I even like them plain but with pesto is just divine! Please, try some! It's delectable, I promise." Izzi eyed the snails, suspiciously. Could this be a trap? The timing was all too convenient if that was the case. Ultimately, he didn't have a choice. If they were poisoned and he ate them, he died. Whether or not they were poisoned, if he refused to eat them, Shiryo would see it as a lack of trust and have him killed. All he could do was hope for the best.

He gingerly picked up the fork, and skewered the smallest snail in the dish. Without hesitation, he lifted it and slipped it onto his tongue. His eyes widened and he almost choked: Shiryo was right – they were delicious. Granted, it was still a snail – there was something about the texture that was off-putting, but he'd had far worse in his time.

Having both devoured their snack, they both reclined in their luxurious armchairs, radiating in the glow of the fireplace. After the moment passed, Shiryo leaned forward in her chair and picked up where they left off.

"Like I was saying, I see something quite a bit more promising for you. Given competent subordinates – I see you accomplishing quite a lot. You've managed to catch my attention at just the right time too. There are large happenings afoot, and the organization is going to grow by a factor of 1000. I'll need knowledgeable people to help me manage everything. I see you as one such person. I'd like to make you a Wakagashira."

A factor of _a thousand_? And such a large promotion? Izzi's head was spinning. "Shiryo, I don't know what to say."

"Say yes." Izanagi believed he had never heard such a deadpan response in his life.

Izanagi quickly lifted himself out of his chair and bowed deeply to the small girl. "Then I accept your gracious offer." Shiryo smiled.

"Good. Now, we can make some progress." She turned to face the fireplace again. She seemed to be looking towards the mantle, lost in thought. Izzi followed her gaze, his eyes drawn naturally towards an ukiyoe that he had not noticed until now. The delicate cuts in the wood were hard to make out at that distance, but appeared to show a forest by a cove on the coast. A trio of people walked along the shore, not noticing that they were being observed from the sky by, was it an orange wind god?

He was brought back to reality by Shiryo's pensive voice. "There's a little girl by the name of Mihama Chiyo who has recently become of great interest to me. I would very much like to meet her. But I'm afraid that she's hard to… get a-hold of." She turned her gaze from the fireplace. "Do you think you could bring her to me?"

Izzi met her gaze with determination and nodded. She smiled. "Good. You'll have my best men at your disposal. While this is a minor errand from the point of view of the organization, it's of great importance to me personally.

"This time, there's no excuse for failure." She turned to the remote on the table and pushed a button of the side. As she returned the remote to the table, she steepled her fingers and looked to Izzi.

"I have the utmost confidence in you, Izanagi, but I find it's helpful to give my subordinates a little motivation." Almost as if on cue, a sliding wooden door opened behind Shiryo, revealing three silhouetted figures. As the figures swiftly approached, Izzi's eyes widened. Two muscular men were dragging a third one behind them by the arms. As they reached the table, they casually tossed the supine form in front of Izzi, turned on their heels and departed just as swiftly as they had come. Izzi was frozen in his chair at the sight of the man's arms, bent in unnatural, acute angles; at the pool of blood slowly forming under his body; at the lacerations that seemed to cover every square inch of exposed skin…. This man couldn't possibly be alive still, could he?

Izzi tried to look away, he _needed_ to look away, but found his eyes drawn inescapably to the horror in front of him. He heard a hushed gurgling and saw the slow rise and fall of the man's chest as he man tried to breathe. The man, seemingly making a monumental effort, turned his head and made eye contact. Izzi felt the bile rise in his throat.

"I decided to save this man for last. This, who is it… Arata? That's who you complained most of in your status report, did you not?" Shiryo rocked back on her legs, and sprung to a standing position. Cheerfully, she hopped off the red-velvet chair and skipped over to the broken Arata. "I decided he would be the best motivation for you."

Casually, Shiryo kneeled down on one knee and took Arata's blood-soaked hand in hers. Arata's eyes bulged and his mouth shot open, though no vocalization came from his rasping throat. A blinding white aura enveloped Arata, forcing Izzi to shield his eyes and look away. He couldn't see what happened, but hearing the telltale dry cracking of bone and the sound of muscle straining against itself told him all he needed to know.

The whole episode lasted but a few seconds and the light began to fade away quickly. Izzi hesitated, but couldn't hold himself back from looking back at Shiryo. The young girl hadn't moved from her position, but Arata seemed to have disappeared. In his place was a small glowing object, which Shiryo picked up. She reached out for Izzi's hands, grabbed one and placed the object carefully on his palm. Izzi looked down at the small object, the size and shape of a large marble as the light began to fade.

"What?" Revealed in his hands, the two eye-stalks of a large, though anemic, snail looked back at Izzi. He stared in disbelief as Shiryo playfully plucked the gastropod from his hand. She smiled proudly at him as she turned the small creature in her fingers. "See? Doesn't this form fit him better? After all, he – like the rest of your team - was slowing you down. A fitting punishment if I do say so myself."

Izzi felt the contents of his stomach churn as she quickly removed the snail's shell and popped the snail into her mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing the creature whole. She walked to Izzi, looked up, and leaned towards his face. Her eyes shone brightly, reflecting all of the light in the room towards him now. "I'll be sending you more information on your task soon. I'm sure you'll perform perfectly!" She lifted her hand to his face and gently caressed his jaw. "I know you won't disappoint me. Or your parents!"

She spun around and silently left the room. As soon as the wooden door separated Shiryo and Izzi, he sprung from his chair and ran through the bookshelves. His lungs burned as he approached and passed through the tall marbled doors, but he didn't care. His only desire, his only goal, was to get out. Finally making his way out of the labyrinth of a mansion, he fell to his knees by the Japanese boxwood that lined the stone walls of the mansion. Lurching, his stomach vacated its contents into the soil. All he could think of was getting the awful taste out of his mouth and the image of those eyes piercing his soul out of his mind.

_God. Damn. _

_Who_, no, _**what**_ was this girl? The way she talked, the way she acted, whatever power she possessed, there was nothing about their meeting that made any sense to his scattered mind. The only thing he knew for certain is that he better not screw up this "minor task." He certainly didn't want his family to end up as Shiryo's next meal.

Still occasionally coughing and spitting, he gradually lifted himself to his feet. Brushing the filth from his shirt and jacket, he started down the dirt road towards his and what used to be his team's cars. Looking at the empty seats which would forever remain just that, he couldn't help but wonder just what he had gotten himself into and how he could get himself out.

* * *

A/N:

I think it's safe to say that Shiryo likes to play with her subordinates' minds. All throughout writing this, I just kept thinking, "OMG, this is such a mindf***!" It was actually a lot of fun to write. Don't worry though; I'll restrain myself in the future. Things will start making sense and coming together soon – I promise! All starting next chapter…

Another important point: you may have noticed that I'm not using honorifics. I realized too late that my first chapters didn't use them either, so I'm leaving them out for consistency's sake. If I go back and add them later, I'll be sure to do so for future chapters. Hopefully by then, I'll have a better understanding of how they work.

If you're completely confused by the mention of "Ab Urbe Condita Libri" by the prolific Livy– feel free to check it out on Wikipedia. wikipedia(dot)org/wiki/Ab_urbe_condita_libri

The article's not half bad. I wonder why Shiryo has a complete, pristine copy of it in her personal library? Hmmm….

Let's see… Oh, and the titles for the various ranks in the "organization" are taken from the general structure of the Yakuza. Is the organization actually the Yakuza? Well, I suppose you'll just have to wait and see

As always, I hope you enjoyed a small foray into this somewhat twisted reality. I always welcome your questions and comments. I would be honored to be graced with your reviews.

Until next time,

Dr. Mason


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